


Days In Avalon

by eerian_sadow



Series: Avalon [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, M/M, Songfic, avalon au, bring your tissues, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of flashes into Jazz and Prowl's life and some of the fallout after Prowl's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title and song lyrics scattered through the fic taken from Richard Marx's fantastic track "Days In Avalon" from the album "My Own Best Enemy". Thanks so much for the song and the inspiration, Mr. Marx!
> 
> This was the first fic written for the Avalon AU and held a lot of other firsts for me. It was my first G1 fic, it was my first chaptered fic in the Transformers universe and it was my first Prowl/Jazz fic. Yeah, i was on THAT wagon before it was cool. I had no idea how the universe was going to explode around me or how invested i'd become in everything.
> 
> I apologize for none of it.

_I’m nearing the end_

_Or the beginning_

_Which ever one finds me._

He hadn’t really had time to process everything until now.  From the moment the shuttle bound for Earth had launched until the moment that Unicron was destroyed, things had just moved too fast for everything to register.  Surviving the next minute had been so much more important than tallying the losses until now.

 

Jazz stood in the ruins of AutobotCity and tried to figure out how it had all gone south so fast.  Tried to figure out how the Autobots were going to move on after such heavy losses. 

 

Tried to figure out how he was going to move on after such heavy losses.

Prowl was gone.  That loss hurt more than all the others combined.  The tactician had been felled by a single lucky shot, something so anticlimactic for the incredible life he had shared with Jazz.  At least his bondmate had the mercy of a quick death, even if it had been incredibly painful.

 

Jazz knew; he’d felt Prowl’s death along with the tactician.

 

They had exchanged a hasty goodbye before Prowl’s systems shut down and he found himself alone for the first time in millennia.  He didn’t even have time to report to Prime what had happened—or begin to grieve—before Blaster’s distress call and the attack on the Moonbases.

 

That was probably for the best; the Autobots from the bases wouldn’t have survived inside Unicron for long without him.  They had been ambushed from the moment they arrived.

 

Jazz had the luxury of grief now, however.  With a wail that sounded very human, he sank to the ruined ground and mourned. 

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

_And I’m counting the tears_

_And the blessings_

_That I’ll leave behind me._

The first time they met, Optimus Prime was sending them on a mission together.

_“Optimus, you cannot be serious!”_

_Jazz winced at the sheer frustration he heard in the other mech’s—Prowl, he reminded himself—voice.  Admittedly, he wasn’t very happy with their sudden partnership, but he wasn’t going to argue with Prime._

_Optimus Prime looked on quietly as the tactician continued.  Jazz had to give their new Prime a little more respect; Sentinel Prime would have already been arguing with Prowl without listening to the other mech’s reasoning.  Sentinel Prime had been a good leader, but the last vorn of the war had changed him in more ways than one._

_“Our specialties are too different.  I’m not designed for stealth or infiltration.  My logic circuits aren’t capable of processing the kind of rapid change data that a special ops mission gone wrong entails.  I do not believe that I am capable of the type of mission you are asking of me.”_

_When it was clear that Prowl’s rant had ended, Optimus spoke.  “You were not designed for special operations, just as I was not designed to lead the Autobots in this war.  There comes a time when we must all overcome our design features and our programming and become more than we were.  I believe you can handle this mission.”_

_Prowl just stared at their leader for a long moment.  Finally, he replied, “I hope that my abilities do not betray your confidence in me.”_

_“Don’t worry, Prowl,” Jazz said with a grin.  “I’ll get us through it without a hitch.”_

Without a hitch had turned out to be wishful thinking on his part.  He had lost an arm and it had ended up being Prowl’s battle prediction programming that had finally allowed them to sneak out of the Decepticon base and back into friendly territory.

 

They had, however, come home with a deeper respect for each other than they had before the mission; something derived from shared experience rather than simply being officers in the same army.  That respect did not take long to turn to something more.

 

Remembering the day everything changed hurt, but Jazz welcomed the pain.  Without it, he had nothing to compare those happier days to; no reason to believe there was anything beyond this horrible grief that was trying to swallow him whole.

 

_It had been a horrible day.  The Decepticons had infiltrated their latest base, downloaded everything in their databases and fought their way back out.  Three Autobots had died trying to defend the computer, one of them a special ops agent on Jazz’s team._

_They would move the base again tomorrow.  Tonight was for repairing damage and mourning losses.  Times like these made him wonder how Optimus Prime and Elita-1 managed to deal with all the losses they saw in the war._

_Jazz sat in what remained of the rec room with a small cube of Energon.  There were a few other mechs in the room, but no one seemed interested in socializing tonight.  Like him, they were too demoralized to do much of anything beyond refueling and recharging._

_“Jazz?”  The saboteur was buried so far in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Prowl come into the room._

_Jazz looked up at the tactician, wondering how he was dealing with the attack on his command._

_“You need to go get some recharge, Jazz.”  Prowl’s face was set into worried lines as he looked at his friend._

_He looked away from the tactician and down at his energon cube.  It was empty, he realized with a shock and he couldn’t remember drinking it.  The saboteur searched for words to express how he was feeling, at a loss for the first time he could remember._

_Finally, Jazz managed to ask, “Why?”_

_“Because I will need you fully functional tomorrow when we join up with Elita and her troops.”_

_It wasn’t an answer that satisfied; it didn’t really answer the question he had meant to ask.  But Jazz stood and let Prowl lead him back to his berth.  It only took him a moment to realize that Prowl was leading them to the tactician’s quarters instead of the barracks._

_“The barracks are the other way, Prowl,” Jazz said, finally find words for his thoughts._

_“I know.”  Prowl opened the door and led him inside.  “I want you to stay with me.  Neither of us should be alone tonight.”_

_With those words, Jazz realized for the first time just how much Prowl trusted him.  And he realized how much he wanted—even craved—that trust.  He entered his sometimes-partner’s quarters without any further argument._

_“Yeah.  I don’t want to be alone either.”_

_Jazz didn’t argue when Prowl reached out and took his hand.  Prowl didn’t argue when Jazz used their linked hands to pull him closer and embrace him._

“Why, Prowl.  _Why?_ ”  For the first time since they had landed on Earth, Jazz envied the Humans their ability to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

_I could not ask for more_

_You were the one thing_

_Worth living for_

“Jazz?”

 

For a moment, Jazz flashed back onto that horrible night when he and Prowl had decided to be more than just friends.  For a moment Bluestreak looked far, far too much like Prowl and Jazz couldn’t handle it.

 

He screamed, trying to vent some of the hurt and loss into Earth’s atmosphere.

 

The saboteur had expected Blue to step back or run away; anything except being pulled into the younger mech’s embrace.

 

“I know, Jazz,” Bluestreak told him.  “I know and I’m sorry.”

 

As he let himself be held, Jazz wondered what the sharpshooter was apologizing for.  He decided it didn’t matter; Blue needed comfort as much as he did right now.   He returned the other mech’s embrace.

 

“I lost my family again,” Blue said sadly, and while Jazz knew he didn’t want to hear it, saying it would help the younger mech so he didn’t stop him.  “And I know I wasn’t bonded, so I don’t really know how you feel, but Prowl adopted me when no else wanted me around.  He was my mentor when my creator couldn’t be there for me.  It hurts so much; it doesn’t seem right that he’s gone.”

 

“I know you loved him, Blue.”  Jazz drew back from the sharpshooter and gave him a serious look.  “I don’t fault you for that; I never minded sharing him with you.  You were the sparkling that neither of us felt right about creating in the middle of a war.

 

“He told me once that bringing you home was the most illogical decision he ever made, but that it was the one he felt the best about.”

 

“He said that?”  Bluestreak looked amazed.

 

“Yeah.  Right after we got here.”

 

Jazz had meant the words to be comforting, but they were followed by a long silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

 

“They thought I ran away,” Bluestreak finally said.  “When the Decepticons ambushed us with the shuttle.  And I guess I did, but not the way they mean.  I had to find the shuttle; I had to _know_.”

 

 _I know.  I would have too, if I hadn’t felt it when he died._ “That probably saved your life, you know.”  Jazz patted the younger mech’s arm.  “Prowl would have approved of your decision.”

 

“He would have been pissed off because I didn’t come back until everything was over.”

 

The saboteur wondered which of their human friends had taught the sharpshooter that particular phrase.  “He would have wanted you to survive.  I don’t think he would have cared how you did it.”

 

“But if I had been there—“ Blue started to argue.

 

Jazz cut him off.  “If you had been there, I would probably be loading you into that memorial with the others.  Not sure I could have taken that; I might have just let Unicron eat me.”

 

Bluestreak digested that for a long time.  “I guess we’re all we have left of him, huh?”

 

“Yep.”  Jazz’s grief wasn’t lessened by this talk with Prowl’s—their—adopted sparkling, but it became more bearable.  It was easier to take the hurt when someone was feeling it with you.

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

_I will remember days in Avalon_

It wasn’t the first night he couldn’t fall into recharge, but he had gotten used to having someone else in the berth when he couldn’t.  Some nights Prowl would say online and talk with him, but most nights, Jazz spent simply watching his bondmate recharge.  It had been peaceful, restful even if he couldn’t recharge, and he felt Prowl’s loss again keenly in the dark.

 

Knowing he wasn’t likely to fall into recharge anytime soon, he rolled out of the recharge berth.  With trembling fingers he turned on his sound system, needing some music to help distract him.  When he realized his hands were shaking he clenched them into fists, trying to will away the physical reaction to his grief.

 

“I’m not sure I can do this, Prowl.  I’m not sure I can manage to go on after this.”

 

Jazz turned when he heard the door open behind him.  Springer looked back at him with concern.

 

“I heard your music come on.  Are you all right?”

 

“Can’t sleep.”  The saboteur shrugged.  “Guess I forgot to lock the door, too.”

 

Springer walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  “I never got to tell you how sorry I was about Prowl.  He was a great mech.”

 

Jazz just nodded.  He’d already heard the same speech from most of the Autobots still at the Ark.

 

“I felt guilty about it.  After everything was over, the only thing I could think of was my own bondmate and how lucky we were that we had both survived.”  The triplechanger sat down in the chair set up near the speakers and looked down at his hands.  “It didn’t occur to me how devastated everyone else was.  Everyone lost someone they cared about this time around and I had only thought about myself.”

 

The saboteur was silent for a long moment, not sure what to say to his younger friend.  Springer took his silence as an invitation to continue.  “When I realized how selfish I’d been, I didn’t know what to do.  I mean, just saying I was sorry seemed so trite—it’s just words that don’t mean anything.  But I <i> _am_ </i> sorry.”

 

When Springer finished speaking, Jazz finally found his voice.  “You weren’t selfish.  Not going to the friends who were hurting at all would have been selfish.  And I appreciate your sympathy.  It means a little more, knowing that you’re bonded and you know what I lost.  I’m glad you aren’t goin’ through this; I’ve never felt anything that hurts like losing your bondmate.”

 

“Jazz?”  Springer looked up at him, confused.  “I didn’t come here to be comforted.  I really was just checking up on you.”

 

Jazz grinned, glad that he could still find the expression—if he could still smile, he could heal.  “I know that, but you needed it.  Don’t ever think that thinking about or spending time with your bonded is selfish; you’ve got to treasure every moment you have with them.  You were brave enough to make that commitment in the middle of the war; enjoy every bit of sunshine you get out of it.”

 

The triplechanger gave the saboteur a long, searching look.  “I never thought I’d get that kind of advice from you after what happened to Prowl.”

 

“It may hurt right now, but I don’t regret any of it.  Being with Prowl was the best experience of my life.”

 

“That’s how I feel, too.”  Springer stood.  “You want to go get some energon?  I don’t think any of us have seen you go down for any since yesterday or the day before.”

 

Jazz paused.  It really had been that long since he’d had any energon.  No wonder his hands were shaking.  “Sounds good.  But you’ve got to tell me about this bondmate of yours.”

 

Springer gave him a warm smile and clapped him on the shoulder.  “Her name’s Gravity.  She’s a sniper back on Cybertron.  I have holos, if you want to see.”

 

As they left his quarters, Jazz realized that talking with Springer had made him feel a bit better.  He still hurt, he might never stop hurting, but the pain was less and he didn’t have to dwell on it.  Maybe he was better off among friends than he had been hiding in his quarters.

 

Grieving alone wasn’t really his style anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**_I will remember nights in your arms_ **

_Prowl was deep in recharge when he finally returned to base after the longest mission he could remember.  He had been out on the same mission for two and a half vorns, completely out of communication.  It was too long to go without hearing the sound of Prowl’s voice._

_He gave a small smile at his lover’s peaceful form.  Prowl had probably gone on with business as usual, not expecting Jazz to come home any time soon.  Jazz hadn’t called him when he returned to base, not knowing how long he would be in debriefing and not wanting the tactician to deny his own needs waiting up for him._

_Prowl’s optics came online as he stepped into the room and let the door close behind him.  Jazz simply gazed at him with a smile, waiting for the tactician to make the first move._

_“You’re back,” Prowl finally said, something close to reproach in his voice._

_“Finally.  I didn’t call because I didn’t know how late I’d be in.”  Jazz took the remaining few steps across Prowl’s quarters to the recharge berth.  “I didn’t want to make you wait when you should be in recharge.”_

_Prowl sat up and gave the saboteur space to sit down.  “Appreciated, but unnecessary.  Optimus is making me take my next three shifts off.  Now I know why.”_

_Jazz wrapped tired arms around Prowl.  “If I ever think of accepting this kind of mission again, I want you to shoot me with those acid pellets of yours someplace critical.”_

_“I had already planned on it.”  Prowl returned his embrace.  “Two and a half vorns is far too long.”_

_The saboteur nodded, letting himself relax into the tactician’s arms.  The other mech’s arms felt peaceful, like coming home.  He could stay here forever._

_Prowl held him, letting the silence between them stretch out comfortably.  He knew that Jazz would tell him about his mission when he was ready._

_Night was cycling into morning when Prowl finally spoke.  “Jazz, how do you feel about bonding?”_

_“If you’re that committed to somebody, I think you should do it.  You can’t be afraid to stay with someone just because of the war.”  Jazz raised his head from his lover’s chest to meet Prowl’s optics.  “Why?”_

_“I started thinking about it while you were gone.  Times like this, when we have to be apart, would be much easier to bear if we were bonded.”  Prowl looked down, not able to meet Jazz’s optics any longer.  “There wouldn’t be days at a time where I worried about you laying deactivated somewhere and never knowing what happened to you.”_

_“Prowl…”_

_“I want to bond with you, Jazz.  I want to be as close to you as I can, for as long as this war will let us.”  The tactician held the saboteur tighter; as if he was afraid the other mech would run away at his confession._

_Jazz was silent for a moment.  “Are you asking, Prowl?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Jazz smiled at him, erasing the worry from Prowl’s face.  “Yes.”_

_Prowl smiled back._

Jazz came out of recharge in someone else’s berth.  He stared at the ceiling, wondering if he had tried to deal with his grief by overcharging and if he had done something he would regret.  He had never dealt with grief that way before, but losing Prowl was so different from any loss he’d ever suffered before.

 

After spending a few minutes trying to remember anything after his first cube of energon with Springer, the saboteur grew brave enough to sit up and look around the unfamiliar quarters.  When he spotted the holo of the slender black femme sitting on the desk, he knew he was in Springer’s quarters.  His relief was immediate; no matter how overcharged he was, the triplechanger would never take advantage of him like that.

 

He stood and walked over to the desk.  Thinking of Prowl, he picked up the holo and looked at it.  Gravity was a beautiful femme; Springer was a lucky mech.  He had been a lucky mech, too.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_I will remember days in Avalon_

_And I will recall every moment_

_Of my days in the sun_

_There were formalities to be observed in becoming bonded.  Not to the process itself, but in being recognized as a bonded pair._

_The first one was telling Optimus Prime._

_He looked at them with expressive, almost sad optics.  “You do understand everything this entails?”_

_“Yeah, we do.”  Jazz’s words sounded braver than he felt.  If he disapproved, Optimus could cause real problems for them._

_“And yet, you are both convinced that this is the course of action you wish to pursue.”_

_“Yes, sir.”  Prowl sounded utterly convinced.  Of course, he’d had two and a half vorns to think about it._

_“You are aware of the repercussions, should something happen to one of you?”_

_“We are, sir.”_

_Prime looked the two of them over again after Prowl’s answer.  “So, knowing that if one of you dies, the other is likely to die as well, you still want to go through with this?”_

_“Optimus, you sound like you’re trying to talk us out of bonding.”  Jazz actually felt the first stirrings of anger toward their leader._

_“I’m not,” Prime said.  “I simply want you to be sure of what you’re getting into.”_

_“We know, Optimus.  But we feel that the benefits far outweigh potential downsides if something goes wrong.”  Prowl was not shy about reaching out and taking Jazz’s hand.  “Nothing is certain, in life or in this war.  Shouldn’t we take every opportunity for happiness that we can?”_

_“Indeed you should.”  If his face mask allowed it, Optimus would have been smiling.  “I am still concerned for you, but I believe that the two of you can handle it.  I congratulate you both; it is a difficult thing to find a partner who will make that sort of commitment during the war.”_

_Jazz grinned, feeling the tension leave his frame—and Prowl’s.  Despite having time to think over the decision, the tactician had been as worried about what Prime would say about the bonding as he had been.  It was a welcome relief to know they had Optimus’ blessing._

_“Have you chosen anyone to officiate for the ceremony?”  Optimus’ question took them both by surprise._

_“We hadn’t thought about it,” Prowl answered after a pause.  “I don’t know if we had been planning on the formal ceremony.”_

_The tactician looked to the saboteur, sudden panic on his face.  Jazz gave him a gentle smile; there wasn’t anything that his soon-to-be-bondmate needed to worry about from his quarter.  “The ceremony’s nice, Optimus, but it’s time consuming and it would give the Decepticons too much opportunity for an attack while we’re distracted.”_

_“If you want the ceremony, I believe we can provide the security.  Think about it.”  Prime’s expression was both happy and hopeful.  “I know Elita and the femmes would be glad for the distraction.”_

_“We will…consider it.”  Prowl’s panic didn’t seem to have abated._

“Are you all right?”

 

Jazz looked up at the sound of Arcee’s voice.  “What?”

 

“I asked if you were all right.  Springer sent me to check on you when he left for his shift.”  The femme walked over to the desk and looked at the holo he was holding.  “That’s Gravity, Springer’s bondmate.”

 

“I know.  We were talking about her last night.”  He turned to look at Arcee. “And I’m fine.  As I can be, anyway.”

 

“You looked so sad when I came in.  I was worried.”

 

Jazz pulled Arcee to his side in a one-armed hug.  “I was.  Was thinking about our bonding ceremony.”

 

She gave him a smile.  “I remember that.”

 

_They had finally asked Ultra Magnus to preside over the ceremony.  Not because they didn’t respect Optimus Prime or Elita-1—or because they didn’t want one of them to preside—but because they wanted their commanding officer to be able to watch the ceremony with his own bondmate._

_It had all gone smoothly-- neither of them stuttering or misspeaking the traditional vows, no disturbances from the audience, no Decepticon attacks to draw them away—until they turned to face their witnesses for the first time as a formally bonded couple._

_Then Megatron walked into the room like he owned it._

_Jazz was angry but Prowl just stared, his logic processors threatening to crash at the illogic and improbability of the Decepticons being able to sneak in and attack them during the ceremony.  No security was flawless, but Megatron and his entourage of Soundwave and Shockwave shouldn’t have gotten this far without giving them some kind of warning._

_Optimus and Elita were both on their feet, weapons drawn and pointed at the Decepticons._

_“What is the meaning of this, Megatron?” Optimus demanded.  “We had an agreement.”_

_“Indeed, Prime, we did.”  Megatron had the audacity to look smug.  “But my lieutenants wanted to offer their congratulations to your officers.”_

_Prime lowered his pistol a fraction, though Elita kept hers trained squarely on Megatron.  “What?”_

_“Are your audio relays malfunctioning, Prime?  Shockwave and Soundwave are here to give the happy couple their best wishes.”  Sarcasm laced Megatron’s voice.  “I just came to see if your tactician and the head of your espionage unit really were bonding.  It’s so illogical that even Starscream had trouble believing it.”_

_“It’s all right, Optimus,” Prowl said, his processors coming back online properly.  “We knew each other before the war.”_

_There was a long, awkward silence before Optimus subspaced his weapon.  “Very well.”_

_“Great.”  Jazz grinned, hiding his own discomfort at the Decepticons in their midst.  “So, you guys staying for the party?”_

“I couldn’t believe that you guys just let them stay.”  There was a grin in Arcee’s voice.  “And I thought Megatron would short out when you invited them to the party.”

 

“To tell you the truth, I was kind of hoping he would.  It would have made the war shorter.”  Jazz forcibly stopped himself from thinking of how many other things would have been different as well.

 

“Everything would have been so different.”  The femme’s voice fell away from light tones abruptly.  “Do you think we’ll ever be all right again?”

 

Jazz didn’t have an answer for her.


	5. Chapter 5

_As I embrace the twilight  
The memories surround me_

Cybertron was so damaged that it was nearly unrecognizable. Despite the fact that he knew he was standing in the ruins of Iacon, Jazz couldn’t tell. Unicron had torn so much of the planet apart that there was nothing left to remind him of the past.

He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

“There’s nothing left,” he heard Bluestreak murmur.

“You okay, Blue?” It seemed a little cold, but Jazz was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of that question for a change.

As he watched the younger mech turn to him slowly, looking like a shock victim, Jazz knew the sharpshooter wasn’t anymore okay than he was; he just hid it better most days. “I’m not sure.”

“I hear that.”

Blue continued speaking, almost as if he hadn’t heard Jazz. Or as if he was reliving memories from so long ago. “This is where they found me, you know. After the attack. It doesn’t even feel like it might have been the same place. It isn’t home anymore.”

“I don’t think Iacon has been home for a long time, Blue.” Jazz put a hand on the other mech’s shoulder, trying to be comforting.

“It’s not just Iacon. Or Polyhex. Or any one place. _Cybertron_ doesn’t feel like home anymore.” Bluestreak turned to look at Jazz with loss and sorrow. “Where will I go now?”

The saboteur was surprised to realize that he was wondering something similar. Where would he go now that Earth had grown too painful and Cybertron wasn’t home anymore?

He tightened his hand on the sharpshooter’s shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to make our own place now.”

_There hadn’t been many survivors in Iacon. The rescue teams had brought back more than they had managed from most of the other cities that had been razed by the Decepticons, but not many. And now that their repairs were completed, most of those had left the medbay, either to join the ranks of the Autobot army or to try surviving as neutral. Two of them were still in the medbay under the care of Ratchet and his team._

_Prowl was watching the sparkling through the glass window of the private room he had been given. They never had sparklings on base—for obvious reasons—and weren’t really equipped to deal with them; the room was a concession to what he was and an attempt to keep him from seeing the worst of what was going on around him._

_Jazz was pretty sure the sparkling had already seen that._

_The saboteur turned when their only femme medic walked up to them. Prowl didn’t even twitch._

_“We can’t even get him to take energon anymore,” Emdee said softly. “Its like he wants to die now.”_

_“Perhaps he does,” Prowl replied. “It must seem logical, to cease to function when there is no one left who even knew your designation.”_

_Jazz looked at his bondmate in surprise. Prowl seemed to be identifying with this unknown sparkling. He didn’t know how to express exactly what he was feeling, but he was unsettled by it. “Prowl…”_

_Prowl turned to look at him. “I was a mature mech when my home and my creators were destroyed by the Decepticons. Despite that, I know some of what this sparkling is feeling.”_

_“He might talk to you,” Emdee added. “The two of you are the same frame type; sometimes those similarities are enough to get a sparkling to open up.”_

_Prowl fell silent. Jazz let him think._

_“If you can convince him to refuel, even if he won’t do anything else, that would help, sir.” Emdee was quietly desperate in her plea. She would do no harm to the sparkling, but she would also do anything she could to get him the help he obviously needed._

_Prowl turned back to the window and leaned his head against the glass for a moment. Then he straightened and moved to the door. He had stepped through it before Jazz realized he meant to go into the room._

_Jazz and Emdee moved to the window to watch._

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_I would have been lost  
Sure as the rain comes  
If you hadn’t found me_

“I didn’t like you at first.”

Bluestreak’s confession didn’t surprise Jazz in the least. “I know.”

“I was jealous of you.”

That did bring Jazz’s head up in surprise. “Jealous? Why?”

“I though Prowl paid more attention to you than to me.” Bluestreak gave him a grin. 

Jazz grinned back. “We had work, man. And I know he explained that to you.”

“He did, but I didn’t get it. I was just a kid. I would get so mad when he left the medbay with you that the medics all thought something was wrong with my processor.” Blue shrugged. “I understood after he moved me into our quarters.”

“You mean when we were hardly ever on the same duty shifts together?” Jazz was amused. Sparklings always took things so out of context.

“Yeah.” The sharpshooter’s demeanor fell then. “Looking back now, I wish I had let you get closer to me than I did.”

“Me too.” The saboteur used the suddenly tense silence as an excuse to wave the oil bar’s server over with another round of energon. When the mech left, he gave his adopted son a serious look. “We have time now, Blue.”

Bluestreak nodded. “You’re right.”

_Jazz was more than a little confused at the sparkling resting in “his” recharge berth. Not that he had used it since he and Prowl had bonded. What he wanted to know was when, and how, Prowl had brought Bluestreak home._

_He would ask his bondmate after the tactician came off duty. He was too exhausted from his last mission to do anything more than fall into recharge himself. Tiredly, he dropped into the berth he shared with Prowl to get his own rest._

_Bluestreak could wait._

_“Where’s Prowl?” Apparently, Bluestreak had heard him come in and did not agree that he could wait._

_Jazz onlined his optics and looked at the sparkling. “On duty. I though you were in recharge.”_

_The sparkling shook his head. “Can’t recharge when I’m alone. Why isn’t Prowl with you?”_

_“Bluestreak, I’ve been in Polyhex for the last three cycles. I haven’t even seen him in four.” He sat up and looked at the sparkling, knowing he wasn’t going to get any recharge for a while now. “If I haven’t been here, how would I be with him?”_

_Bluestreak thought about that for a moment. “I thought you were always together.”_

_“I’m lucky if I see him twice in the same cycle.” Jazz wondered where this thread of questioning would lead._

_“Oh. Are you going to stay for a while?” The sparkling sounded hopeful. He really must not like being alone._

_Jazz didn’t blame him._

_“Yeah. I’ll be here for a couple of cycles at least.”_

_“All right.” Bluestreak gave him another thoughtful look, then climbed back into the other recharge berth._

“If you didn’t like me, how come you went back to recharge that first night?” They were well into their third round, and Bluestreak was starting to look overcharged enough that he would answer Jazz’s question.

“You were Prowl’s bondmate.” Blue seemed to think this was enough reason.

“That’s it?”

“Well, if he could trust you, so could I. Even if I didn’t like you.” The sharpshooter held his energon cube up for emphasis. “Have you ever seen me over energize with anyone else?”

Jazz felt suddenly warmed by Bluestreak’s trust. It was a shame it hadn’t come while Prowl was still alive to see it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Each breath I breathe is for you  
I never knew how to live   
‘Til you taught me to_

He stared at the holo of Prowl that he and Bluestreak had mounted on the wall next to the computer screen. It surprised him that Blue had chosen to stay with him, but Jazz had told him that there would always be a place for him in the saboteur’s home if he wanted it.

They were family, after all.

“You raised a good mech, Prowl,” he said. “He’s as strong and loyal and caring as you ever were. I wish you could see the way he’s pulled through this.”

Jazz made a sound that mimicked a human’s sigh. “He’s doing better than I am.”

He remembered how the younger mech had held him in the ruins of Autobot City on Earth, giving him the comfort he needed at the expense of his own. He wondered who had comforted Bluestreak, when he had been too torn up to be able to see the other mech’s suffering.

The saboteur laid his fingers on the holo, over Prowl’s face. “I miss you, babe. I’m making it, but I miss you so much.”

“He’d tell you that standing in here and talking to a picture of him was illogical.”

Despite himself, Jazz had to grin at that. “Didn’t know you were awake yet, Blue.”

Bluestreak shrugged as he came into the main room of their quarters. “I woke up when I heard you talking. I guess I thought something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Nothing new, anyway.” He almost wished something was wrong; the distraction would be nice.

“He’d be pissed off that you were just moping around the house, too.” Blue put a hand on Jazz’s shoulder. “Let’s go out and get some energon. Elita doesn’t want us on duty for a while yet.”

“When did you get so take charge? Something you learned on Earth?” The saboteur was actually amused with the sharpshooter’s strong-arm tactics.

“Something I learned from Prowl.”

_“It is logical that you still grieve for you family,” Prowl told Bluestreak as they sat in Prime’s office. “That is a loss you may never completely recover from. But it is not logical to take your grief and turn it to anger against the mechs who have cared for you for the last several meta-cycles. It is disrespectful to the memory of your family. It is disrespectful to Optimus Prime. It is disrespectful to me.”_

_Jazz winced at the anger he heard in Prowl’s voice. Bluestreak winced too, though the sparkling was probably more ashamed that he had angered Prowl than that he had disrespected Optimus._

_“I’m sorry, Prowl. But when they said those things about my creator, I just got so mad!” Bluestreak looked sparkbroken._

_“And anger is a just cause for attacking another mech?”_

_Their sparkling looked down at the floor. “I guess not.”_

_“I don’t think he understands, Prowl. Let me try.” Jazz knelt down in front of Bluestreak, forcing the young mech to look at him. “Do you know why it was wrong for you to lay into Sunstreaker like that?”_

_Blue shook his head, looking afraid to speak._

_“Lashing out in anger like that, whether Sunny deserved it or not, made you like the Decepticons. You could have defended your creator’s honor just fine by walking away.” Jazz patted the sparkling on the knee. “We all know they were wrong, don’t we?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Thank you, Jazz.” Jazz stood up, knowing that his turn was over now that he had made his point. Prowl was going in for the real lecture now. “Did it ever occur to you that Jazz and I would get into trouble for your fight as well?”_

_Bluestreak’s optics widened. “But you didn’t do anything!”_

_“That is not how Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus see it.” Prowl leveled a harsh glare at the sparkling. “Because we take care of you, we are responsible for your actions. You getting into a fight is just like one of us getting into a fight. We will be disciplined because they think that we are not taking proper care of you.”_

_“I didn’t mean to…” Bluestreak stopped and tried again. “What will they do?”_

_“Optimus Prime may decide that you can no longer stay with us.” Prowl’s voice was toneless as he spoke._

_Jazz hoped he was just using scare tactics on the sparkling. If he believed that Optimus would take Bluestreak from them, then the sparkling must have done something more serious than just punching Sunstreaker._

_Optimus chose that moment to enter the room. Jazz didn’t think it could have been more precipitous._

_“Please don’t take me away from Prowl!” Bluestreak cried, throwing himself at Prime’s knees. “I promise I’ll be better.”_

_The Autobot leader shot an appealing look at Prowl who shook his head. The tactician obviously wanted Prime to play along._

_“What you did was very serious,” Optimus told the sparkling. “I won’t send you away, but only if you agree to do something for me, as well as becoming better at minding your mentors.”_

“You remember the time I got in the fight with Sunstreaker?”

“Yeah. Was just thinking about it, actually.” Jazz grinned into his energon. “I don’t think I’ve seen Prowl that mad any other time.”

“Me either.” Bluestreak took a drink of his own energon. “Do you really think Optimus would have sent me away? Or was Prowl just trying to scare me?”

“Well, I think it probably would have been too much of a risk to take you anywhere else, so it’s likely that Prime would have let you stay. But would you have straightened up if you knew that?”

“Probably not.” Bluestreak grinned. “It was a hell of a threat though. I completely believed him.”

“I almost did too. I was a little worried until Optimus came in the room.”

“I’ve always wondered why Optimus wanted me to go into combat training as punishment, though. Seems like that would have just encouraged more of the same behavior.”

“He trusted Ironhide to teach you honor and rules with your combat training. If you fought the way Ironhide did, then he knew you’d never fight anyone inside the Autobots unless they started it.” Jazz shrugged. “And he probably thought Sunny deserved what he got.”

When Bluestreak laughed, Jazz decided not to mention that they had managed to talk about several of their missing friends without getting melancholy. He’d let the kid realize he was healing on his own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you put away your tissues at any point between chapter one and this one, get them back out and keep them out til the end.

_I will run through the door  
I’m not afraid anymore  
And the light that I see is your eyes_

Jazz took his new orders from Elita-1 and tried not to be bitter toward her. It was hard in light of the fact that her bondmate had been rather miraculously resurrected.

Optimus Prime was back from the dead, while he still had a hole in his spark shaped like Prowl. It wasn’t fair at all.

Part of him wanted to leave the Autobot army, just so he wouldn’t have to face them. He knew he would stay, though, because the forces on Cybertron needed him too desperately. No one could infiltrate the remaining Decepticon strongholds the way he and Bluestreak could.

“I almost can’t talk to her anymore,” Bluestreak said after they left the femme’s office. 

“I know.” Jazz kept walking, not really wanting to continue the conversation.

Bluestreak let the subject lay. “So what’s our new assignment?”

“Apparently Galvatron stationed a squad in Koan sometime in the last three cycles.” Jazz handed the sharpshooter the data pad containing the specifics of the mission. “She wants us to go root them out.”

“Why doesn’t she give us something hard to do?”

Jazz took a moment to wonder when Bluestreak had developed such a sarcastic streak, but he wasn’t above responding in kind. “Well, someday she might.”

Bluestreak laughed and started reading their assignment.

 

The small squad of Decepticons that Elita-1’s scouts had told them to expect was much larger than it should have been. It was headed up by Soundwave and his cassettes and large enough that Jazz was beginning to think that this might be the mission that they didn’t come back from.

“Jazz, I think we’re screwed!” Bluestreak grabbed his arm and pulled him out of a line of Decepticon fire.

“Screwed? Who taught you to talk that way?” Jazz turned back to the enemy forces and fired a few rounds from Prowl’s acid pellet gun, hoping to make some of the Decepticons fall back.

“Sunny.” Blue stood over Jazz and fired his own round. “He knows all sorts of interesting Earth phrases.”

“I should have known you’d make up with him eventually.” The saboteur nudged the sharpshooter to move him back down the corridor.

Bluestreak stepped back, giving them both room to turn and run. “Uh, yeah. About that…”

Jazz glanced at him as they ran. “What, Sunny? Really?”

“Yeah.” Blue turned and fired over his shoulder. “You’re not angry?”

“Nah. I’m happy for you.” Jazz winced as a well-placed shot hit his shoulder. “Ah, shit!”

“And you complain about how I talk.”

“They shot me!”

“Shit,” Blue agreed. “Keep going, I’ll try to drive them back.”

Jazz kept moving, but he knew that once the shots started hitting him, they would continue to do so. The saboteur hissed as a second and third shot hit him squarely in the back. He could feel several systems beginning to shut down from the damage. “I’m hit bad, Blue. I’m not sure I can make it.”

The fourth shot to the back of his head took him down.

“Jazz, don’t leave me too.” Bluestreak caught him as he began to fall.

“You won’t be alone, this time,” Jazz said softly. “You’ve got Sunny back home. Get out of here while you still can.”

Bluestreak laid him carefully on the floor. “I love you, Jazz.”

His optics powered down as Blue stood back. “Love you too, kid. Run.”

The last thing he heard was Bluestreak’s footsteps running down the hall.

Soundwave stopped the Decepticons in their pursuit at Jazz’s lifeless shell.


	8. Chapter 8

_Once again I’ll be whole  
I will live in your soul  
Longer than the rest of our lives_

Bluestreak thought his processor would crash when Soundwave delivered Jazz’s body to the base. He hadn’t thought he would be able to do anything to honor his mentor. It was almost sickening that one of the Decepticons that had helped kill him was bringing him home.

“You have a lot of nerve,” Bluestreak told the Decepticon.

Soundwave shook his head. “Respect. We were…friends.”

“Friends? Friends don’t shoot each other in the back!” Sunstreaker had to hold the sharpshooter to keep him from charging the Decepticon.

“You need to go now,” Sunstreaker said calmly. “We’ll let you go, out of respect for Jazz.”

Soundwave nodded, set Jazz’s body on the ground and walked away.

Bluestreak screamed obscenities at the Decepticon as he watched him go.

 

_Jazz._

Jazz felt his spirits lift instantly. He would know that voice, that _spark_ anywhere. _Prowl. But how?_

Prowl laughed. _Did you forget that all sparks return to the matrix?_

He felt himself wrapped in the kind of relieved embrace only Prowl could have given him. He returned it, completely unconcerned with the fact that he was dead.

They were together again. For the first time since Prowl died, he felt complete.

_I missed you._

_I know; I missed you too. But you got on without me. And Bluestreak needed you._

_Seemed like everyone needed me._

He felt more than heard Prowl’s amusement. _Well, it kept you out of trouble._

Jazz wrapped himself in the warmth that was Prowl and was finally at peace. _I love you._

 _I love you, too._

_Did you know Bluestreak is seeing Sunny?_

_I always knew those two would make up._


End file.
